Orestes Desperate, Pylades Drunk
by E et R
Summary: Enjolras goes to desperate lengths to get a drunken Grantaire out of his apartment during a power cut. Complete crack, but enjoy! Written by E, beta'd by R :)
'Since you're new here, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. But if you break, you are out of here at once, understood?' Enjolras threatened a teabag. He then lowered it into the boiling water and used a spoon to press it against the side of his cup. As he feared, the teabag was of dubious quality. It burst open, spilling out tea leaves that spread through the beverage.

He looked around the kitchen for a sieve to pour it through, as he refused to invest in a tea strainer.

Just then, the lights went off. Enjolras removed his head from a cupboard and got up on all fours, feeling the ground in front of him with his hands. He rose to his feet and headed in the direction where he assumed the fuse box was, before immediately tripping over something soft and ending up sprawled out on the floor.

In the confusion of what had happened, he slowly registered the red emergency lights coming on, making it possible to see, though barely.

He now saw what had made him trip. Lying on his floor, snuggled up to the corner of his sofa, was a mix of dark curls, ripped clothes and alcohol, also known as Grantaire.

Grantaire started to come back to life, groaning and mumbling barely coherent complaints about bruises and ribs.

'No no no Grantaire, this won't do.' Enjolras said to himself as he started to haul the drunken heap across the room by his elbow.

'I know you're drunk and it's late, but you can't stay here. You're going home.' Having regained his breath from dragging Grantaire, he stood up and faced the door.

Which, unfortunately, was very sturdy. And very modern. So sturdy and modern, in fact, that it was three inches thick and used a key card instead of a key. A key card he had been sure was in his pocket.

Enjolras half-heartedly pounded his fist on the door, knowing it was no use. From the ground he heard Grantaire's gentle voice.

'Let me sleep here, until I die here.'

'No, Grantaire; no one is sleeping here and no one is dying here. If the door is locked I'll have to get you out another way.'

'Alright then,' Grantaire complied and made no sign of surprise or protest when Enjolras slung him over his shoulder with superhuman strength.

He carried him over to the window, opened it, and proceeded with lowering Grantaire down, until he was dangling head first, only held by his ankles.

'Isn't that a bit high?' Grantaire questioned innocently. Enjolras looked down at the dark street five floors below, only lit up by the lights of passing cars.

'Maybe you're right...' Enjolras admitted thoughtfully. He looked around for a drain pipe and, having not found any, pulled Grantaire back onto the ledge.

'There's no fire escape here, is there?' He asked Grantaire, exasperated.

'It's your apartment and no.'

'Fine then. Laundry chute.' He lifted the drunkard back onto his shoulder.

'Nice view,' Grantaire said.

'What?'

'The window. Out of my flat I just see the buildings around me.'

'Well, you're about to see them soon,' Enjolras muttered under his breath.

He let out a triumphant shout when he saw the chute was big enough for a human, which, thinking about it, seemed a big health and safety risk. This whole night was causing him to suspect the architects had more money than sense, and the inspectors even less scruples than money. The doors had a battery emergency power supply, but shouldn't they have automatically opened in a power cut?

'Okay, Grantaire, it's just like a big slide. You'll be fine, there's a laundry basket underneath.'

Grantaire nodded and half of him was already in the chute before he looked back with second thoughts.

'Isn't that a long way down?'

'Don't worry, it loops around so it doesn't go straight down.'

'Where do I go from there?'

'Just through the door, up the stairs on your right and across the entrance hall. Oh wait-' he realised with horror a key card was needed for all the doors.

Within half an hour of failed attempts, Enjolras was getting desperate. He almost had one of Grantaire's legs in the toilet when the latter asked 'Are we going to the Ministry of Magic?' and at that moment he knew he was being ridiculous.

Finally, he accepted there was no way of getting Grantaire out and he would have to wait until the power came back on to call reception about his key card.

He laid back on the sofa and his eyes were almost closing as he remembered his uninvited guest was still there.

'I guess you...could just...sleep...on the sofa...Gra...' He mumbled before his chin rested on his chest and his arm fell to his side.

Enjolras was woken up around dawn by the beeping sound that signified the power turning back on. Grantaire's head was resting on his shoulder, and the man was yawning in his face.

Without even bothering to push him off, Enjolras reached out for the phone and began to dial reception's number, before pausing and turning back. He frowned and blinked, trying to remember.

'Grantaire?'

'Yes, Ap- Enjolras?'

'How did you get into my apartment?'

'Oh,' he said nonchalantly, taking out a little plastic rectangle from his pocket, 'you dropped your key card.'

'You. Can't. Be. Serious.' He said through gritted teeth.

'I am wild,' Grantaire replied with an evil grin.

'Were you so drunk you couldn't tell me?!'

'Oh, I wasn't even drunk,' Grantaire said, getting up.

'What- but then- why-' Enjolras was more flabbergasted than he had ever been in his life.

Grantaire bent down and planted a kiss on his lips, before skipping out of his room and throwing the key card back to Enjolras, who was left feeling just as confused as before.


End file.
